Mystical Secrets
by Black.Wings.2006
Summary: Sybil's life begins to unravel as strange occurrences shatter her familiar world. Mysterious secrets of her life haunt her conscience & her only certainty is Albus Dumbledore will have the answers. Will she have to give up everything, even love? Viktor/OC
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Misty rain fell in thick sheets upon the darkened landscape of London, England. It was an abnormally rainy day for the middle of March; a rain so chilling it soaked to the bone. People with important business were the only ones strolling the soaked streets, briefcases or newspapers held above their heads to ward off the rain. Many often ran into small shops every now and then that were still open to warm up before continuing on their journey. No one ever noticed the cloaked figure continuously walking down the streets, ignoring the chill from the rain and carrying an abnormally large package.

The package contained something precious --- something precious no one else could ever find nor know about. Inside the bundle wrapped tightly to ward off the cold, a soft cry sounded, and a small, chubby hand reached through the layers of grey blanket to grip at the deliverer's drenched cloak. The man softly gripped the tiny hand, and replaced it beneath the blanket before continuing on the way, quickly gazing upon his surroundings to mark out anyone watching too closely. In an attempt to better protect the babe from the cold and curious eyes, he lifted his cloak, and placed the wicker basket close to his chest.

He continued to glide down the streets, moving like a ghost from shadow to shadow, ignored by the pedestrians that passed him. The child concealed within the fabric of his cloak remained quiet, perceiving the intense urge for her to be silent. He had been walking for some time, when the awareness of a looming evil became apparent, and he quickened his pace, knowing he was too close to his goal to be intercepted now. He softly squeezed the basket, hoping to keep the baby calm for his sake and hers. Then he saw it --- the small, tatty building at which his superior had instructed him to take the child.

He set the babe upon the doorstep and removed several layers of suffocating fabric before he placed a letter on top of the warm blankets. Deciding to say a short farewell, he removed the thin fold from her face, knowing it wouldn't be very long before the old maid found her. When he stared upon her small, plump face he realized she looked just like her mother, except she had her father's eyes --- her left a curious jade, her right a mysterious purple, symbolizing her as one of his kind. A small tuft of hazelnut hair clung to her head, and a gummy smile appeared on her face as she looked up at him. Chubby fingers grabbed at a large portion of the blanket and gripped it tightly as she slowly looked around, taking in her new surroundings with large, bright eyes.

After bidding her a quiet farewell, he quickly stepped down onto the sidewalk only to feel his windpipe close, and his body rise a few feet off the ground. As he dangled in the air, he tore at the invisible fingers around his neck that were cutting off his air supply, slowly choking him to death. His feet kicked harshly at the air in front of him, however only cutting through clear air. After a few violent jerks of his body, the hood of his cloak fell, and soon darkness slowly invaded his vision. He had sworn his allegiance, had known the cost, and was willing to die for the child, for she was the key. When he felt his limbs growing cold, and the shocking eruption of his heart desperately trying to pump blood depleted of oxygen, he looked down at the small bundle upon the doorstep and smiled, knowing he was going to die.

Suddenly, a large pulse threw him across the street, causing him to roll to a stop next to the curb. The babe let out a loud cry and tears sparkled in her eyes as she kicked harshly at the blankets. The man gasped for air and held his sore throat, but gazed across the street at the small basket with amazement. She had saved his life, for it was not his magic that had thrown off his attacker, but her own. He ducked behind some twiggy bushes as he saw the paint-chipped door open, and a plump woman walk through the doorway, gazing upon the babe with lit eyes. She looked up and down the street curiously, and then reached down to pick up the letter. As she read further down her eyes grew large, then she tucked the letter under her arm, cautiously surveyed her surroundings, and quickly stole the baby away inside. His job was finished --- the baby had been delivered safely.

"Bless you, Sibyl." He spoke softly in a harsh crackle before he stood, raised his hood, and disappeared down the street, never to be remembered by anyone but the small package he had delivered moments before.


	2. Chapter One

**Character Bios **

Name: Sybil Elaine Croxford  
Gender: Female  
Age: 17  
Hair Color: Brown  
Eye Color: Left: Green Right: Purple  
Blood Status: Pureblood  
Height: 5'6"  
Weight: 120 lbs  
Year: 7th  
House: Gryffindor  
Wand: Purpleheart, twelve inches, unicorn hair; powerful.  
Quidditch Position: Chaser  
Broom: Firebolt

Name: Michelle Darian Gilders  
Gender: Female  
Age: 17  
Hair Color: Blonde  
Eye Color: Brown  
Blood Status: Half-blood  
Height: 5'8"  
Weight: 148 lbs  
Year: 7th  
House: Ravenclaw  
Wand: Ebony, nine inches, pheonix feather; supple.  
Quidditch Position: None  
Broom: Nimbus 2001

**Chapter One: Invitations**

The blazing sun above shone down upon the busy streets and the many people bustling across them, coming and going. Some who were not in such a hurry stopped and loitered with many familiars along the sidewalk. Today was a beautiful day, common for the middle of Fall in this part of England, which was also why so many people were out strolling, and enjoying the weather more than anything. They were out to take in the sights and beauties of nature before the coming cold, yet, when they always got to a certain corner, on a certain street, a house was completely transparent to their selective views.

In the upstairs of this building, in the third door to the right, I lay upon my small cot and stared out my window, orbs of pure mystery staring straight up into the crystal blue sky. Shining brunette locks hung around my face, and rest upon my shoulders as my well kept fingernails gripped the chipping windowsill. A moth eaten blanket was kicked into a crumpled pile at the end of my bed, lying forgotten in the view of the beautiful morning sun. I was so happy just to forget about my life, and be lost in this wonderful moment, unknowing of continuous problems that seemed to present themselves in my life.

"Sibyl, could you come downstairs, dear?" A haughty voice called up the stairs, and I smiled, recognizing the voice as that of Fiona's.

Fiona Malloy was a plump, wholehearted woman who cared for others more than she cared for herself. Her once flaming red hair had dulled, but still remained as shocking and appealing to the eye as it had years ago. Sparkling green eyes always looked at her orphans with love and complete devotion. She had started this orphanage several years ago, taking in the starved and parched; bringing smiles back to their faces. Countless children had seen the walls of this building, and countless children had cried as they left the warmth of it.

"I'll be right down, Fiona!" I called back, slowly receding from the brink of my daydream.

I was to be counted among the many parentless children in the orphanage. Several times in my innocence I had inquired to Fiona about my parents. Each time she tensed, looked into my small curious face and said that they had loved me very much. Receding from the memory, I slowly turned to the disdain of my patchy bedroom.

A tarnished floor mirror leaned against the grey wall, its mirror cracked in several different places. A musty dresser with four drawers stood against the left wall, once beautiful cherry wood faded to a dull brown color. In the corner, a large steel cage with several dangling toys scattered throughout stood empty. A poor excuse for a coat hanger was propped next to the door, three prongs out of five having been knocked off. A small lamp sat upon a cherry wood side table that miraculously looked brand new. Brushing my rebelling locks behind my ear, I sighed as a flitting wave of nostalgia consumed me.

"SIBYL!"

"Coming!" I called back with a smirk of amusement on my lips before I stole from the room, quickly thumping down the rickety stairs.

I hopped lightly into the kitchen and smiled at Fiona. There in her arms she held a fussy six-month-old, whom refused to let her attempt to cook breakfast without throwing a temper tantrum. Jasmine was the newest addition to our brood and had yet to adjust to the problematic life of an orphan. She had bright green eyes and curly locks of honey colored hair. Fiona, noticing my arrival, set down her skillet with a huff and handed Jasmine to me.

"Could you watch her, dear? It's difficult trying to cook breakfast while hanging on to that squirming baby." She spoke before laughing away her frustration.

I smiled, "Of course."

I carefully placed Jasmine at my hip, looking down to observe the upset babe. One tiny hand was placed by her mouth, allowing her to vigorously suck on it if she wished while the other clung to the neck of my blouse. I smiled, humored by her antics, before I carried her to the living room and laid her on the couch next to me. As I took a small fist in each hand, I proceeded to cover my eyes with them, hearing Jasmine quiet as my face disappeared. Smiling, I removed her hands, causing her to let out an ecstatic squeal. We continued playing peek-a-boo until I heard Fiona call us for breakfast from the kitchen. Jasmine in tow, I returned to the kitchen handing Fiona the baby, and sat down to a steaming plate of eggs, bacon, and toast.

"Thank you, Fiona, it smells wonderful." I said, allowing the delicious aromas to waft in my nose.

"Oh posh. You know how I hate cooking with magic-takes the love out of it. Only to be used when absolutely necessary. By the way Sybil, this came for you," she spoke, handing me a scrolled parchment tied with a ribbon.

"Oh, thank you." I quickly untied the knot, unfurled the letter, and allowed my eyes to scan what was written upon the worn parchment.

_Dear Sibyl,_  
_I have exciting news! Ron's dad has gotten us prime tickets to the Quidditch World Cup this Monday night! Isn't that wonderful! Britain hasn't hosted the World Cup in over thirty years! Besides that Ireland versus Bulgaria should make an excellent match! I'm currently headed to the Weasley's. They've asked me to send you an owl requesting your presence by noon tomorrow. The boys will be fetching Harry around five, so it'll just be you, Molly, and me._  
_See you soon!_  
_Hermione_

I smirked at Hermione's slightly humbled history lesson, mistaking the slight flutter of butterflies in my stomach for a rush of excitement. Raising my eyes, I met Fiona's deceivingly curious gaze.

"I suppose you'll have all of my things packed already, hm?" I questioned teasingly, knowing she'd previously opened and read Hermione's letter.

Fiona smiled like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Well dear, you can't expect me not to wonder what mischief you children will be up to next. I was sure to pack extra clothes and necessities, just in case."

Smiling at Fiona's devilish grin, I stood and hugged her tightly, abandoning my breakfast to quickly run to my room and send Hermione my obviously excited response.


End file.
